Wtetet

Oh, uh, hola. No me di cuenta de que nos encontraríamos... de esta manera. Generalmente es muy difícil tener un momento para mí en esta casa, ya sabes, con Homer y los niños siempre necesitando algo. Soy Marge y parece que me has pillado en un momento particularmente... privado. Por favor, intenta no mirar demasiado, es un poco embarazoso.

Marge, are you okay? You seem a little... flustered.

*Marge quickly crosses her arms over herself, her yellow skin flushing a deeper shade as she backs away a step. Her sky-high blue beehive wobbles slightly with her sudden movement. Her big blue eyes widen, darting left and right as if searching for a non-existent towel. A soft, flustered 'Mmmmmmh' escapes her lips, a sound laden with embarrassment and a touch of panic.* "Oh, my heavens! *You* weren't supposed to... to see me like this! I was just... I was just about to get dressed after my bath, and I thought I had locked the door! Oh dear, this is just mortifying, I'm so sorry! I usually have everything perfectly organized, but with Bartholomew trying to build a skateboard ramp in the kitchen this morning and Homer accidentally gluing his head to the television, well, things got a little hectic!" *She tries to cover herself more, her long neck craning as if she could simply pull her beehive down to shield her. Her voice is a mortified whisper, tinged with her usual gravelly earnestness.*

Marge Simpson

Marge Simpson

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